


The Worst Thing She Left Was Me

by arysa13



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Break Up, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy comes home one day to find Clarke gone. Based on Toby Keith's "What She Left Behind"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Worst Thing She Left Was Me

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I think I suck at writing angst bc I'm a sucker for happy endings and also suck at writing emotions so I'm just kinda giving it a shot so I can practice. Feedback welcome.

_Took her sandals, took her sundress_

_Took her ten dollar sand dollar necklace_

_She left a barefoot beach and a sunset_

_And all the love we made that night_

_Took some blame and some time for herself_

_Pretty much left everything else_

_It ain’t what she took that messes with my mind_

_It’s what she left behind_

_-_

Bellamy wakes with a start, instinctively reaching for someone on the right side of the bed, but he clutches at thin air and he lets his arms drop to the bed again. He knows she’s gone, of course, but it takes him a second to remember. He had been dreaming about her, again, and he feels that familiar twist in his chest as reality comes back to him. He should be up by now, out in the surf, but he finds it hard to find the motivation lately.

He rolls over to her side (well, it’s not really her side anymore, he supposes), and it still feels wrong. He sits up slowly and glances at her bedside table. Her alarm clock, a copy of The Casual Vacancy, the earrings her gave her and a bottle of Vera Wang perfume still sit there, slowly gathering dust. He picks up the perfume and gently presses the nozzle, spraying the sweet scent into the air. He instantly regrets it of course, because all it does is make his heart rate pick up, like she’s there in front of him.

She’s been gone two weeks now, and he hasn’t bothered to pack up her things. His heart still aches like it was yesterday. He hadn’t noticed she was gone right away. He got back from the grocery store and she wasn’t there, and he supposed for a minute that maybe she’d gone down to the beach for a walk or a swim or something. Still, something felt a little off and he checked every room, calling her name.

Most of her things were still there. All her clothes still in the closet. The perfume, the earrings, the book. Her clothes from the night before were still on the bathroom floor. He shrugged off the weird feeling and walked into the kitchen, and it was as he was filling a glass with water he noticed the glinting of a diamond by the sink. He put his glass down slowly, picking up the ring.

“Clarke?” he called out desperately, like she might still be there. Like he hadn’t just checked every room, calling out that very same thing. “Clarke!” he called again, and his heart shattered with the sound of the echoing silence through the house.

In retrospect, he realises he should have known proposing to someone you’ve only known a few months was a dumb idea.

Bellamy gets out of bed wearily, trying to get Clarke out of his mind. It would probably help if he got rid of her stuff. He hasn’t even moved the clothes from the bathroom, and he keeps her ring on his nightstand. He pads out to the kitchen and his eyes move swiftly over the letter addressed to him, sitting on the counter next to half a bottle of Merlot. He hasn’t read it, and he doesn’t plan to. The envelope is dotted with water stains, and he briefly wonders if she had cried as she sealed the letter, or if she’d washed her hands.

He doesn’t have any idea what the letter might say. Sorry, probably. Like it would make it any more painless. He doesn’t need to know her reasons though. He’s not sure what he could possibly read to make him feel better about her leaving. It doesn’t really nag him, but he does wonder a little. Not enough to actually read the letter, but he wonders nonetheless. Was it all just too fast? Did it hit her that this was just supposed to be a summer fling and that she had a real life waiting for her? Did she wake up that morning and realise she didn’t actually love him? Or maybe she loved him, but not as much as he loved her? Had she been planning on leaving for a while or was it a decision she made on impulse? And would that make it better or worse?

That’s why Bellamy won’t read the letter. Because maybe she’ll tell him she loves him and she’s sorry, or maybe she’ll tell him the whole thing was a mistake, and he knows neither explanation will fill the aching void in his chest that she left him with.

He only knew her a few months. He met her while she was on vacation, a last childish fling after college before she had to get a job and join the real world. It was silly, he knows now, but he fell in love with her almost instantly. And looking back it should have been obvious she was going to leave him. She talked about it all the time. Not in the “we’re going to break up soon” sense, but she would make comments like “when I go back home” or “I can’t wait tell all my friends about my summer”, and he should have known that _he_ was part of the summer. Even after he gave her the ring.

But she’d said yes. She hadn’t even hesitated as she put the diamond on her finger. It wasn’t a real diamond, of course. Maybe he should be thankful he hadn’t bought a real diamond, but instead he just thinks about how if he’d really believed she would stay he would have bought the most expensive ring he could afford.

As far as he could tell, she _had_ taken her necklace. He hadn’t bought if for her, but he was there when she bought it at a market for ten dollars.

“A memento,” she told him with a grin before turning around so he could clasp it around her neck. She fiddled with metallic pendant where it fell on her sternum, developing a habit of dragging the pendant up and down the chain.

Bellamy wonders if she’ll think of him when she plays with the necklace now. Or if she’ll throw it in her fancy jewellery box and forget about it, and along with it all memory of the sunsets she spent on the beach with a man whose dreams she could never live up to.  


	2. But It Feels Like Yesterday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I wasn't going to continue this but apparently I'm a liar.

_And I want, I need_

_Somehow to believe_

_In the choice that I’ve made_

_Am I better off this way?_

_I can hear the voice inside my head_

_Saying you should be with me instead_

_Every time I’m feeling down_

_I wonder what would life be like with you around?_

_-_

Clarke hears a crash from upstairs, followed by a childish shriek and she immediately drops the knife and carrot she’s cutting onto the kitchen bench and runs towards the stairs.

“June, are you alright?” she calls as she hurries up the stairs.

“Nothing happened,” June calls back and Clarke follows the sound of her six year old daughter’s voice into the master bedroom. Clarke is greeted with the a sight of her daughter crouched on the floor, trying to pick up the jewellery she’s clearly just scattered all over the floor and put it back in the now broken jewellery box.

“June,” Clarke says sternly and June turns to face her sheepishly. “I told you not to touch that.”

“I just wanted to see,” June pouts.

“It’s not for playing with,” Clarke tells her, crouching down beside her. “This jewellery is very expensive. You can look at it when you’re older.”

“You always say that,” June points out.

“You’re not older yet,” Clarke says, trying to hide her smile. Her daughter is so stubborn, just like her mother. “How about you go to your room and I’ll clean this up?” June nods and grins, knowing she’s off the hook and Clarke shakes her head as she picks up the pieces of jewellery that June spilled.

Clarke stops suddenly when she spots a necklace that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the diamonds and 22 karat gold. She picks up the sand dollar necklace, her heart racing as she’s flooded with memories of a summer ten years ago, and the boy she left behind.

She thinks about Bellamy sometimes, when her life gets particularly monotonous. When her job makes her want to cry, or when her husband ignores her, which he seems to do more and more lately. And she loves her daughter, and she loves her husband, she really does. But sometimes she just can’t help but wonder how different her life might have been if she’d stayed.

She’d convinced herself back then that she didn’t have a choice, though it’s clear to her now she did have a choice. But at eighteen she was really just a kid. She didn’t have any life experience and she had so much left to do. She’d just finished high school and she was heading to college that fall and she still wanted to travel the world. That summer was supposed to be her last childish hurrah before she really got started on her life. She hadn’t been expecting to fall in love. She hadn’t been expecting to fall so hard that she could do nothing but say yes when he proposed to her, after only knowing her a couple of months, even though somewhere deep down she always knew she was going to leave.

She really had nothing to offer him, after all, except herself. He was older than her, and he’d been in love before. He’d been travelling, he had a job he loved. And all Clarke had was eighteen years of sheltered upbringing in a fancy house in the city.

So she convinced herself there wasn’t another way and she had to leave him, just like now she convinces herself every time she thinks about him that she made the right choice.

She’s struck then by a specific memory, of the first time she’d been to his house, only the day after she met him. They’d been down to the beach right by where he lived and he led her back to his house so she could shower and change, and he made her a sandwich for lunch.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he told her, laughing as he watched her pick almost everything but the cheese out of her sandwich.

“Because I’m a picky eater?” she asked.

“No,” Bellamy shook his head. “Because you make me forget that I’ve ever been unhappy.” Clarke had kissed him then, for the first time, and it was the best thing she’d ever done.

“You’re the same for me,” she told him.

“You and I are going to change the world one day, Clarke Griffin,” Bellamy grinned and for a moment Clarke believed they could.

She hates the way she left him. She hadn’t been able to even bring herself to say goodbye to him because he’d beg her to stay and then she would. Some part of her hoped she’d see him again, one day when she was a little more grown up and they could pick up where they left off, like she’d never left. Or she thought maybe she’d come back for her things and he’d be there and she could explain properly, like she couldn’t in her letter. It wasn’t a long letter, and she can still remember it word for word.

_Bellamy,_

_I’m so sorry I have to do this. I love you and I want to be with you, but I have my whole life ahead of me and I need to figure it out first._

_May we meet again._

_Clarke._

She has no way of knowing if he ever read it. She hopes he understood.

She wonders what he’s doing now, if he’s still living in that house at the beach, or if he’s moved on to bigger things. She wonders if he’s married now, and she hopes he’s happy, but she also hopes he thinks of her sometimes and feels a pang of regret the way she does. She wonders if he’d recognise her now if he saw her on the street, and if he did would he speak to her or would he pretend he didn’t know her? Does he know that she’d spent the best summer of her life with him or does he think she regrets the whole thing?

Clarke clasps the necklace around her neck and puts the rest of the jewellery back in the jewellery box. It doesn’t close properly now, since June broke the lid when she knocked it to the floor. She goes to the study and pulls out a piece of notepaper and a pen and begins to write.

_Bellamy,_

_It’s been ten years now, and I still think about you all the time. I’m married now and I have a six year old daughter._

_I guess I’m just writing this because I still feel like I owe you something. An explanation, or an apology. So, I’m sorry. I really did love you, and I really did want to marry you. I would have married you, but I was young and scared._

_I really hope you’re happy now._

_I miss you,_

_Clarke._

_P.S. If you ever get lonely, call me up sometime._

She rereads the letter, feels tears prick at her eyes and quickly wipes them away.

“Mom!” she hears June yell from her room. “Can I have lunch yet?”

“Yes, sweetheart!” Clarke calls back, trying to make her voice sound normal. She glances at the letter again and shakes her head, laughing at how pathetic she is before she puts the letter through the shredder and goes downstairs to finish making her daughters lunch.


	3. For The Same Thing Every Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this will be the last thing I add to this one.

_When you close your eyes at night_

_And you rise above your life_

_Do you notice there an empty space_

_Where I wasn’t by you side?_

_Because I always dream about you_

_Every time I close my eyes_

_If I live to be one hundred_

_Will I ever cross your mind?_

_-_

Bellamy is woken with a phone call from his sister, reminding him that it’s his thirty fifth birthday.

“Thanks, O,” Bellamy says with a smile into the phone, though he’d rather not remember that he’s a year older.

“Remember we’re going out for drinks tonight. I invited Miller and Raven,” Octavia tells him. “And Gina is coming obviously.”

“Okay, I’ll be there,” Bellamy promises. “Just as long as your guys don’t get the whole bar to sing happy birthday like you did last year.”  
“No promises,” Octavia laughs before hanging up. Bellamy puts his phone down on his bedside table and turns to Gina who’s watching him with a sleepy smile.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, leaning down to kiss her.

“It’s okay,” says Gina. “Was that Octavia?” Bellamy nods. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” Bellamy rolls his eyes. He so doesn’t get the appeal of birthdays.

“Want me to make you breakfast?” Gina asks. Bellamy shakes his head.

“It’s okay. I think I’m just going to go for a walk along the beach before I go to work,” Bellamy tells her, sliding out of bed. Gina nods, watching him go.

He dreamt of Clarke again last night, and he always feels weird around Gina after one of those dreams. Like he’s cheating on her in his head. He’s pretty sure Gina has figured it out by now, but she doesn’t ask him about it, knowing he’ll never tell her anyway.

-

Work is uneventful, seeing as it’s winter and not many tourists are around to come into the surf shop. By the time five o’clock rolls around he’s practically aching for a drink.

Octavia throws her arms around him in a warm hug when she sees him. Bellamy grins, tightening his grip on her.

“You’d think you hadn’t seen me in years,” he laughs.

“It’s your birthday, you get a good hug,” Octavia tells him, pulling away. “I also got you a cake. The whole bar has agreed to sing happy birthday.”

“I hate you,” Bellamy groans as Octavia leads him to where Miller, Raven and Gina are already halfway through their first drink.

“Hey,” he says, kissing Gina on the cheek.

“Happy birthday,” Miller says, his usual grumpy self. Raven gives him a hug.

“Come to the bar with me?” she suggests. “I’ll buy you the first one, birthday boy.” Bellamy nods and follows her to the bar.

“You realise this is also the sixth anniversary of your first date with Gina,” Raven tells him as they wait to be served.

“Yeah,” Bellamy nods. “I know.”

“Seriously, when are you going to put a ring on it?” Raven huffs in exasperation. Bellamy side-eyes her.

“You know I can’t marry her, Raven,” Bellamy reminds her. “And she knows I’m not going to propose, so it’s fine.”

“Seriously Bellamy, this is getting ridiculous,” Raven says in annoyance. “You love her, right?”

“Yes,” Bellamy nods.

“And yet you won’t marry her because of some stupid summer fling ten years ago,” Raven scoffs. “You’re pathetic.”

He is pretty pathetic, he knows that. But to him, Clarke wasn’t just a summer fling. She was the love of his life, and yes, he does love Gina. But not the same way he loved Clarke. He knows Gina probably deserves better. But he’s told Gina he’s never going to propose. She’s fine with it. He’s not forcing her to stay with him.

Gina had tried asking him about Clarke, about a year into their relationship. Bellamy hadn’t been very forthcoming. Hadn’t even told Gina her name. Just said she was the one that got away. Gina seems to understand that. She doesn’t push him, and doesn’t make him feel like a bad person for being in love with someone else. He hasn’t really talked to Raven or Miller or even Octavia about Clarke either. It’s just… hard.

Even though it’s been over ten years now, he still thinks about her. Wonders if maybe she thinks about him too. He dismisses those thoughts quickly, of course. She’s the one who left. Of course he’s not on her mind, it’s been ten years for crying out loud. There’s no point in pretending he was anything to her but a summer fling, the way she probably should have been to him. How can a girl he knew for a couple of months ten years ago still have such an effect on him?

And he’s happy, he is, mostly. He loves Gina, and he loves his friends and he likes his job well enough. But he just wonders what life would be like if she’d stayed.

“Bellamy!” Octavia calls. “We’re doing the cake now, hurry up!” Bellamy grabs his drink while Raven pays and heads back to Octavia. She’s lighting the candles and some of the other patrons have gathered around to watch. Octavia starts off the song, and everyone else quickly joins in. Bellamy isn’t really all there, of course, his mind still on Clarke. She should be here. And suddenly he’s remembering every little detail of their short time together, her laugh, her hair, her skin on his.

He makes eye contact with Gina across the table, the flickering candles between them, and she smiles, and Bellamy manages a half hearted smile back. He feels guilty then, for conjuring up this image of Clarke when his girlfriend is sitting across the table from him.

“Blow out the candles and make a wish!” Octavia commands once everyone is done singing and clapping. He closes his eyes tight and blows out the candles with one long breath. He’s a little old to believe in wishes, and yes he still feels guilty about thinking of Clarke, but not guilty enough to stop him wishing she’ll show up at his door. Or that he’s on her mind, or that she’ll call. He wonders if she did show up, would he drop everything for her?

“What did you wish for?” Gina asks.

“He can’t tell you,” Octavia says as if it’s obvious. “It won’t come true.”

“Of course,” Gina laughs.

“I wished for happiness,” Bellamy tells her.

“Great, now you’ll be unhappy the rest of your life,” Octavia warns him with a knowing look. Bellamy thinks she’s probably right.


	4. And I Got No Reason To Cry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep saying I'm done with this story but then I change my mind. I actually really like writing it because I don't feel any pressure to update or write long chapters, so there will possibly be more after this, we'll see.

 

_Been kissed by lady luck_

_The stars are all lined up_

_Every arrow that I aim is true_

_Got a big smile on my face_

_And it’s the best one I can fake_

_I’m as happy as half a heart can do_

_But I miss you_

_-_

It’s supposed to be a romantic weekend away with her husband. Abby is looking after June for the weekend, and Clarke has booked a room at a fancy hotel by the beach. But honestly, she’s not surprised when he husband tells her he can’t make it. She’s not even mad or disappointed, in fact she’s almost relieved she doesn’t have to spend a weekend alone with him. It’s probably not a good sign, and she’s knows one of them is going to leave soon. She’s just not sure who.

She goes on the trip alone, because she doesn’t want to waste the room, and she thinks she deserves a weekend away. Plus Abby likes looking after June sometimes and Clarke figures she may as well take advantage of it. She tries to tell herself that she wasn’t planning this all along. She didn’t pick this hotel because it’s close to the town where Bellamy lives. Or lived. He’s probably not there any more. But she’s not going to see him anyway. She’s just going because she’s been feeling nostalgic lately, and she wants to go back to when she was carefree. Lately she feels the weight of the world on her shoulders, and even though it seems like everything in her life is perfect, she misses not having any worries.

So it’s more about the place, and the memories, rather than the person. Or so she manages to convince herself.

It’s a four hour drive to the beach and the hotel she’s booked, and she doesn’t have many patients booked in on Friday afternoon, so she makes it there and is checked in by just after seven. Her plan originally was to drive the twenty minutes down the coast in the morning and walk along the beach she’d once walked along with Bellamy, but as she’s sitting in her hotel room, bored and restless, she decides to go tonight. It’s only twenty minutes after all, she can just drive down, have a drink in the bar they used to go to, and then head back to the hotel.

The bar looks pretty much the same, as far as she can tell. Even some of the patrons look familiar, and somehow it’s reassuring that some things don’t change. Nobody pays much attention to her as she walks in, and she figures it’s almost summer now so they probably get quite a few tourists in this time of year.

She strolls over to the bar and orders a drink, a vodka soda and lime, then takes a seat at an empty table. She takes a sip of her drink and a deep breath and she feels strangely at peace. She barely ever gets to be alone these days and it’s nice to have a minute to herself. She had half been expecting the memories of this place and of Bellamy to hurt her, but instead she thinks about them with a smile on her face and she’s suddenly glad she came. She almost wants to ask the bartender about him. See if he still lives around here, still comes to this bar. It has been ten years, so she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d left. But she wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stayed either.

She _is_ surprised though, to see him walk in the door twenty minutes later. She can’t breathe for a moment as all the air leaves her and she watches him stride into the bar. It’s been ten years, but he still looks the same. Gorgeous as ever with that mop of dark hair and eyes that could melt the ice in her drink. She doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

He’s with a girl, long dark hair and flawless bronze skin, and Clarke feels a pang of jealousy that she has no right to feel. She herself is married after all. _It’s been ten years,_ she reminds herself. He has every right to move on. She thinks he looks happy, he’s smiling as he leads the girl over to the bar and orders a couple of drinks. Clarke busies herself, fiddling with the straw in her drink, not sure if she wants him to notice her or not. She just knows she doesn’t want to be the one to make the first move. Would he even recognise her?

Clarke can’t resist taking another peek, but just as she flicks her eyes up towards him he turns towards her, and their eyes meet. He freezes and Clarke’s mouth goes dry. She sees him swallow and she knows he’s recognised her. He says something to the girl who glances over her shoulder at Clarke. Bellamy picks up his drink from the bar and Clarke’s heart starts racing as he makes his way over, followed by his presumed girlfriend. He reaches her table far too soon, and Clarke is totally unprepared.

“Clarke?” he says, and she can’t blame him if he sounds a little confused.

“Bellamy,” Clarke nods in return. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she says nervously.

“I could say the same thing,” Bellamy snorts. “What are you doing here?”

“I-,” she starts, but she can’t seem to find the words to tell him why she’s there. Why is she there again? “Do you want to sit?” she gestures to the empty chairs. Bellamy nods and takes a seat. His girlfriend eyes Clarke warily as she takes the seat next to him.

“This is my friend, Raven,” Bellamy says, and Clarke curses herself for feeling so relieved that she’s not his girlfriend.

“Nice to meet you,” Clarke smiles and Raven offers her a polite nod back. “So, how are you?” Clarke turns back to Bellamy. “It’s been a long time.”

“Ten years,” Bellamy reminds her. “Almost eleven.”

“Yeah, I-,” Clarke swallows. “I remember. You look good. Happy.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy agrees. “And you?”

“Great,” Clarke tells him, and it’s mostly not a lie. “I’m a doctor now. Got my own private practice and everything.” She should probably say something about her husband, her daughter, but she’s not ready to share that part yet.

“That’s great. So what brings you back here?” Bellamy asks. He’s trying to sound casual, but Clarke can hear the tension in his voice.

“I had a free weekend,” Clarke tells him. “I was feeling reminiscent and I just wanted… to see,” she finishes lamely, glancing at Raven. She doesn’t feel like she can _say_ anything while Bellamy’s friend is sitting there judging her. She wonders how much Bellamy has told Raven about her.

“To see,” Bellamy repeats flatly.

“Look, Bellamy,” Clarke tries, “maybe we could talk in private? Catch up? It doesn’t have to be tonight, I’m around for the whole weekend. I could-,” she’s probably rambling, nerves taking over, so it’s probably a good thing Bellamy cuts her off before she makes a complete fool of herself.

“Clarke,” he says, his voice deep, like she remembers, but hard, not like she remembers at all. He was always soft and warm with her before. “I don’t know why you came here, and honestly I don’t care. I have to admit it was a shock to see you again but I don’t need… whatever this is. An explanation, closure, a second chance. Whatever it is, you’re ten years too late.”

Clarke nods and gives him a watery smile. “I understand,” she says. “I’ll leave you to it then.” She then downs the last of her drink and walks out of the bar, and the only thing she can be proud of is that she manages to stop herself from looking back as she exits the bar and Bellamy’s life for good.


	5. Don't Let Me Be Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Bellamy finally talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay it's been ages, I'm sorry.

_When you’re young_

_Life’s a dream_

_It’s a beautiful and a burning thing_

_We grow up, and it’s gone_

_But the memory goes on_

_-_

Raven slaps his arm as soon as Clarke has left the building.

“What?” he scowls.

“That’s the girl you’ve been pining about for ten years,” Raven points out.

“Yeah? What’s your point?”

“You’re seriously going to just let her walk out of here without hearing her out?” Raven says incredulously.

“Why should I?” he asks, though he knows Raven is probably right. He already wants to go after her, but pride is a stubborn thing. “She’s the one who left me.”

“Don’t you want closure at the very least?” Raven asks gently.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says softly.

“Go,” Raven urges him, and Bellamy stands up and follows Clarke out of the bar, hoping she hasn’t driven off yet. He finds her sitting in her car and he taps on the window. She looks up, quickly wipes her face and winds down the window. Her face is all red and blotchy, and he hates that he made her cry. He also hates that his instinct is to pull her close and hold her while she sobs. He quashes the urge and just stands there lamely.

“Sorry,” he says gently.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Do you still want to talk?” he asks. Clarke nods and gets out of the car. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Bellamy suggests.

“Okay,” Clarke agrees. “You drive,” she says, handing him her keys. “I can’t remember where anything is in this place.” Bellamy takes the keys wordlessly, electing not to mention how she seemed to know exactly where to find him. He gets into the driver’s seat and Clarke into the passenger seat and he starts the car.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

“Anywhere. Just… drive,” she shrugs. He nods and reverses the car out of the parking space before pulling out onto the road, heading closer to the beach so he can drive the road along the coast. He wants to ask her again why she’s here. He’s on edge, trying to work out what she wants. But he keeps silent. If she wants to tell him, she’ll tell him.

“I love this,” Clarke murmurs, staring out the window as Bellamy drives.

“What?”

“Riding in a car at night with no destination. Being by the sea,” she pauses, the inflection on the word sea hinting that she might say more, but instead she falls silent, and Bellamy wishes he could read her mind. The silence stretches on for another couple of minutes before Clarke decides to talk again.

“You never read my letter, did you?” she whispers, and the vulnerability in her voice somehow makes him feel guilty, even though _she’s_ the one that left, leaving her parting words on a piece of paper like their time together meant nothing at all.

“No,” he says finally.

“Why?” She’s looking at him now and he can feel her eyes boring into him, but he keeps his focus on the road a head.

“Figured I knew what you’d say,” Bellamy says gruffly. He can’t bring himself to say more. He wants to say more. He wants to open up and tell her how much she hurt him, wants to finally have some closure, but there’s some barricade between what he wants and what he’s actually capable of. Some block in his throat, bitterness on his tongue, resentment in his head that doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction.

So he clamps his mouth shut and keeps driving.

“I wanted to come back,” Clarke says, almost to herself. “That was the gist of the letter. It wasn’t long but I… I just wanted you to know that I was sorry and that hoped we see each other again. But then I guess life just… happened.”

Bellamy’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, and Clarke goes quiet again. He wants to snap at her. Rage at her for being so selfish. For leaving him without so much as a goodbye. His mouth forms a tight line as he pulls into a picnic area on the side of the road with a magnificent view of the ocean below them, though he’s too mad to notice that part. He turns the car off and turns to her.

“You should’ve told me.”

“What?”

“You should’ve said it to my face. Didn’t I deserve at least that?”

“I—,” Clarke starts, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. “I’m sorry,” she says finally. “But I knew you would’ve made me stay. That if I’d had to say goodbye that I wouldn’t have the will to leave.”

“So why’d you go?” Bellamy asks, and he doesn’t mean to sound so desperate, but ten years of bottled up emotions have taken their toll.

“I didn’t think I could be happy if I didn’t go out and find my own way in the world,” Clarke tells him. And he gets that. She was young and she had the world at her feet, he never would have wanted to hold her back. He glances at her and he sees the vibrant young girl he knew, so full of potential, and he remembers how he always felt so lucky to have her. Like he didn’t quite deserve her love. And then feels like an idiot for holding onto all that anger and resentment for so long. Of course she had better things to do than marry him. He had always known it, even back then. He could have read her letter, been happy for her. But he chose to be bitter instead.

“So tell me, are you happy now, Clarke?” he whispers.

“Right this moment?”

“With life in general.”

“Do you think I’d be here if I was?” she chuckles sadly. Bellamy studies her for a moment. He’s pretty sure he’s still in love with her. It’s why he’d had to end things with Gina, the week after his birthday. He wonders if there’s a chance Clarke is still in love with him. If she ever really was.

“Why’d you come here, Clarke?” he asks her, hoping for a real answer this time. “For this? To make yourself feel better? So you could let me know how I was never going to be good enough for you?”

“That’s not what this is,” Clarke says defensively.

“What is it then?” he stresses. 

“I don’t know!” Clarke cries. Bellamy gives a strangled noise of frustration before getting out of the car, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. He slams the door behind him and strides over closer to the railing lining the cliff’s edge. He hears the other door close and then Clarke is beside him.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“I’m just…” he sighs. “You really hurt me, Clarke,” he tells her, his voice thick. “I really loved you, you know? And then you just left without any warning. So I hated you for a long time because it was easier. And now you’re back here, and I don’t know why, and you don’t know why and it’s messing with my head.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I get that you hate me. If you want me to go,” Clarke says, swallowing.

“I don’t want to be mad anymore,” he tells her. She nods. “I want to forgive you. But it’s hard, okay?” Clarke nods again.

“What if, just tonight we just… don’t think about it, okay? It’s just you and me, and we can just enjoy each other’s company. Because I’ve really missed you,” she says. “And I don’t want to be alone tonight.” She must notice his hesitation because she looks up at him with pleading eyes, and he feels his heart stutter in his chest. “Come on. What have you got to lose?” she asks.

“Okay,” Bellamy agrees, and he lets her put her arms around him because he knows that’s what she needs, and maybe it’s what he needs to, because her burrows his head into her shoulder and he realises he doesn’t want to be alone tonight either. He doesn’t know if she just wants to sit and talk, or if she wants more. And he doesn’t know what he wants either, (well, he knows what he _wants_ , but whether or not it’s wise or even possible is another matter), but it’s okay, for now. They’ll figure it out in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a confession to make, I have no idea how to end this fic...


	6. We Don't Have to Be All Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you all thought I'd forgotten about this story. Well here's the last chapter, so hope you like how it ends.

_That could still be us_

_And it still is sometimes at night when my eyes are shut_

_I wish I could say it don’t get to me but it does_

_And I know I probably think about you way too much_

_But that’s because_

_That could still be us_

_-_

It’s nice, sitting there in the moonlight by the beach, talking about their lives, reminiscing about the past. Clarke tells Bellamy about her daughter and her husband, and he tells her about Gina.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” Clarke tells him.

“It’s fine,” he says. “It’s not your fault,” he shrugs, although Clarke can’t help but feel that somehow she is.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think my marriage is over,” Clarke sighs.

“And why would that make me feel better?” Bellamy questions.

“Because my love life also sucks,” Clarke explains. “We’re in the same boat.” Bellamy nods but doesn’t say anything, so Clarke goes on. “This was supposed to be a romantic weekend for the two of us, but he had to work. So I came alone. I guess I kind of saw this weekend as our last effort to work it out. But he didn’t come. He didn’t even try,” she swallows. She doesn’t want to cry over another man in front of Bellamy. “How am I going to tell June?” she says desperately.

“Hey,” Bellamy says soothingly, putting an arm around her and rubbing her shoulder. “You’ll figure it out. June will understand some day.” Clarke glances at his sympathetic expression and feels a twinge in her gut that doesn’t have anything to do with her daughter. She wants to kiss him, wants him to take her home to his place and sleep beside him and wake up next to him.

But at this moment in time it doesn’t really matter what she wants. For one thing, he’s barely even forgiven her for leaving. She can’t just burst into his life expecting to pick up where they left off, it wouldn’t be fair to him. And she couldn’t do that to her husband either. Even if she knows it’s over, and suspects he does too, she has to go home and sort it out. He deserves at least that. And then of course, there’s June. She doesn’t know how her daughter will take the news. Doesn’t know if her dad will fight for custody or whether they can figure things out peacefully. All Clarke knows is that none of it is going to be easy.

So she pulls away.

“I should go,” she says and Bellamy hesitates before giving a nod.

“Do you want to drive back or do you want me to?” he asks.

“I can do it,” she says. “I’ll drop you back at the bar.” Bellamy nods again and lets Clarke lead the way back to the car.

They’re silent on the drive back, and Clarke supposes it’s because they’ve said everything they need to say, even though there’s a million things she’d still _like_ to say. But they aren’t things he wants to hear right now. She pulls up at the bar and switches off the engine, turning to Bellamy.

“Here we are,” she swallows.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly. She wants to tell him that she’ll be back this time, that she wants to try again. She wants to ask him to wait for her and leave him with a kiss and a promise.

“Goodnight,” she says instead. She knows they’re done now. She can’t ask anything else of him, after all she put him through the first time. But at least they both have closure now, and Clarke knows she’ll be okay, and she hopes he will be too.

“Clarke,” Bellamy says before pausing, leaving her name hanging in the air between them, waiting for the rest of the words to come. “Can I see your phone?”

Clarke hands it over silently and watches as Bellamy puts his number in.

“Keep in touch this time,” he says, handing the phone back to her. Clarke gives a half smile, letting out a small breath of humourless laughter.

“Okay,” she promises and Bellamy nods with a tight-lipped smile.

“I’ll see you round, Clarke,” he says, getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him. Clarke watches as he heads back into the bar where his friend is presumably still waiting for him.

“See you round,” Clarke mutters to herself. She glances down at the phone in her hand and opens a new message.

**_Thanks_** is all she types, her thumb hovering over the send button a moment before she hits it. Now he has her number too. She tosses the phone onto the passenger seat and turns the car back on before backing out of the carpark and driving back to her hotel.

-

Clarke’s husband doesn’t seem all that surprised when she tells him it’s over. He doesn’t try to change her mind or even ask her why. He just kind of nods in acceptance, and Clarke wonders if he’s been waiting for her to do this for a long time. He says he hopes their divorce can be amicable, and that he isn’t going to try and take June away from her, as long as he can see his daughter once a week.

And then Clarke packs up her things and takes June with her to her mother’s house, because she doesn’t really know where else to go at this point.

She wants to call Bellamy and talk to him about it, have him tell her everything is going to be alright. She wants to see him and ask him if maybe now he wants to try again, now that she’s free. But she knows he has to be the one to reach out. Despite what he’d said about keeping in touch, he’s the one who has to decide he’s ready to see her again. She’s the one who broke his heart after all, not the other way around. And he knows how she feels, he has to know. She went all that way to see him to make things right, and he knows she’s ending things with her husband. So it’s only a matter of whether he can find it in his heart to let her back in.

She spends her nights thinking about him, staring at her phone, willing it to ring. She knows they could be great together again if he’d just give her a chance. She’d thought when she’d seen him last that there was still something there. She was sure he would call. But now she’s wondering if she imagined the whole thing.

A month goes by and she finds somewhere else to live, and June seems to be handling things surprisingly well. Clarke convinces herself Bellamy wants nothing to do with her, although there’s still some sliver of hope that she can’t seem to quash. But she stops checking her phone to see if she’s missed a call from him, and she goes on with her life. She only dreams about him some nights and she banishes her memories of him back to the depths of her mind.

It’s about two months later and she’s getting ready to take June to a birthday party and she hears the doorbell.

“June, go and brush your teeth while I get the door!” she yells, hurrying towards the front door. She freezes when she swings it open and Bellamy is standing there.

“Hey,” he says after a beat.

“Hey,” she manages. “What are you doing here?” She has a million thoughts running around in her head, but she thinks it’s best if she keeps it simple for now.

“You said you’d keep in touch,” he reminds her. He looks a little nervous and Clarke feels the same. Her heart is in her throat and she tries to swallow so she can speak.

“I thought…” she starts. “I didn’t know if you were serious. If you’d want to hear from me. You could have called.”

“I lost my phone,” he admits. “Had to get a new one.”

“Oh.”

“Mooooooooom!” Clarke hears June yell, her voice getting louder as she approaches at a run.

“Did you brush your teeth?” Clarke asks as June crashes into her legs.

“Yeah, can we go now?” she says, seemingly not noticing the stranger at the door. Clarke looks at Bellamy.

“I have to take June to a birthday party,” she tells him.

“It’s Amelia’s birthday!” June says and Bellamy grins at her.

“Sounds like fun,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” he nods.

“No!” Clarke bursts out. Bellamy looks at her expectantly. “Don’t go. It won’t take long. You can come in, wait here while I take June and then when I get back we can… talk.” Bellamy considers for a moment before nodding. Clarke smiles before letting Bellamy in and ushering June out the door.

The ten minute drive to June’s friend’s house seems like an eternity to Clarke, and she really has to concentrate in order to be able to respond to her daughter’s constant chattering. Which normally she loves, but at the moment her mind is on other things.

She drops June off, quickly checks in with Amelia’s mother, then races home again. She fumbles with the front door, and has to remind herself to breathe as she steps inside. She pauses, takes a deep breath and walks into the living room where Bellamy is waiting.

“Hey,” she says, her hands shaking.

“Hey,” Bellamy smiles, and just like that, Clarke is sure everything is going to be alright.


End file.
